


Liebestod

by Hippediva



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, HEARTBREAK!!!, Heartbreak, M/M, Misery, PAIN!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-07-09
Updated: 2001-07-09
Packaged: 2017-10-08 05:29:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hippediva/pseuds/Hippediva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That scene, those thoughts....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liebestod

Pain....lancing through his every nerve, his every muscle; each breath agony, each thought a surfeit of pain. His heartbeat echoed in his ears, throbbing with anguished precision to the pulse of his shattering mind. It was dying within him, this bond of theirs. He could feel it's deaththroes, a low hum in harmony with the laser walls and the buzzing of his own lightsabre. He  
knew it then, knew beyond doubt that life was over and all that was left was the dissolution of body and soul.

There was no thought as he tore through the black and red demon. He was mindless retribution, intent only on ridding the universe of such abomination. At the last, when it was done and he had watched the shocked, severed body disappear into the void, he saw the green glowing shaft of light illumine his hand and felt it break. His heart. Breaking. Still beating. Broken.

He felt Qui-Gon's cheek, his beard, the wiry feel of the silver hair beneath his numb fingers. He felt the broad-tipped finger touch his cheek. He heard the last whispers, but they were a foreign language. He could not speak. He could not hear. He could not feel.

He watched the air-traffic over the city planet, waiting for the inevitable moment when the last link between them was severed. His eyes were transparent pools that hid all, like a forest burn at springtime.

He heard his responses to the ritual, taking the boy as his padawan. He felt nothing. The boy was disturbed, but untrained. He simply shrugged up his strongest shields and moved through the ceremony in a haze of molasses-spirit sickness and necessity.

He stood, pale and stoic, behind the boy, watching them lift the tall body onto the pier, watching the embers catch and the pure flames calmed his storm-tossed mind.

Before they could know, he was there, Qui-Gon's head cradled in his lap, as it had been in that terrible moment. The flames danced around him like a fairy ring of blinding light. He felt his hair ignite, it's bristly shortness changed to love-locks of orange flame. He smiled, then felt his smile shrivel. Pain....lancing through him. His heart singing, singed. Liberty. Whatever future was for the boy was not his. He was free.

Fin


End file.
